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#stveharringtn
taintandviolent · 3 months
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jimmy w a sp*t or scratching kink
(i apologize)
written to this (dear god jesus lord) tw: spittting, alcohol mention, slight violence.
"Oh, you know what, fuck you, Jimmy Darling!"
Collecting a mouthful of spit, you reared your head back with the devil in your eyes. He'd gotten drunk, yet again, and it didn't really matter that you were drunk too, but he'd put his hands on some girl from the audience, and you'd caught him redhanded. The girl had scampered away as he swore up and down that she didn't mean anything, but he didn't run. At least his mother had raised him not to run away from his problems. Jimmy remained, fists balled up into fleshy, conjoined wads.
"Fuck... YOU!" You said again.
About to launch the saliva at him, you were abruptly slammed against the exterior of his trailer, which creaked with the force of his strength. A drunken fire burned in his eyes as he stared you down, daqring you to say another word. You didn't. You gaped, shocked that he'd gotten so mouthy at you. More than that, he'd gotten physical with you.
Jimmy gripped your mouth, holding it open.
"Y'know.... my ma' always said, if you spit on it, it's yours."
Jimmy's cheeks hollowed as he sucked together a mouthful, before spitting it directly in your open, waiting mouth. Eyes rolling back in your head, your stomach muscles clenched, but not with anger. This time, your core was tightening with arousal. Jimmy pressed his hardness against you, watching raptly as you closed your mouth and swallowed the warm saliva.
a/n: sorry if this was terrible!!! i'm getting in the groove of writing again!
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powderblueblood · 5 months
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STEVE HARRINGTON X MILLION DOLLAR MAN !!!!
( idk if that’s what you meant 😭 pls delete if it’s not <3 )
send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)
▶ MILLION DOLLAR MAN - LANA DEL REY
you've got the world, but baby at what price? or how falling in love with notorious conman steve harrington began your career as a fence of stolen jewelry.
an: @stveharringtn cherry how the fuck did you know that i've been sitting on a conman!steve au for what feels like a hundred thousand years. PERFECT SONG PERFECT CHOICE lets begin i hope you like it
warnings: my blatant obsession with the oceans eleven cinematic universe and pathological need to create a heist au out of EVERYTHING. and CUSSING IS IN THIS TOO.
word count: 2.5k
MIAMI BEACH, 1990
“Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned safe?”
“I don’t trust a safe. I don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, and I most definitely don’t trust a safe.”
Dustin Henderson dangerously toes the edge of squawking, but he doesn’t know any better. At this point in his career as a thief, he doesn’t understand that when Steve Harrington says he doesn’t trust anyone, it’s not dismissive. It’s simply a missive, a fact of life. Everyone’s got knives, everyone’s got backs. Stands to reason that someone’s going to thrust and someone is going to get stabbed. 
Steve likes to take all the necessary precautions. 
He doesn’t trust anyone. 
“But her you trust?” 
Robin Buckley’s tone is hard. Robin Buckley is the only person that Steve could imagine himself trusting, and even so, they keep each other at an imperceptible arm’s length. To the outside world, they’re bosom buddies, best friends eating dirt together. But they both understand the business that they’re in. 
They keep their knives sharp.
They take all the necessary precautions. 
So why the fuck is Steve bringing an outsider into the ring. 
“I never said that.” Steve grabs a coaster and pointedly puts it where Robin might next aim her beer bottle, dripping with incriminating condensation. All over his agarwood coffee table. 
“It was inferred.” Robin pointedly puts the bottle down– to the far left of the coaster. Fuck you.
“I don’t see how that’s my problem.” Fuck you right back. 
“I know why he’s not using a safe,” Eddie Munson crows from the near background, wiping ash from his face. Eddie Munson, munitions expert. Eddie Munson, expert in blowing up any conversation within a three mile radius. Detonation test, by the way, that’s why his face is covered in shit. 
Steve holds out a hand–stop right where you are–before he can reach the agarwood table. 
“Because he’s–” and proceeds to make that finger in hole gesture that doesn’t crack a single smile in the room. Not even Dustin Henderson’s, mostly due to the fact that it’s happening behind his head. “Because he’s fucking her.” 
“It’s not that,” Steve and Robin say in unison, with Steve’s eyes narrowed on Eddie and Robin’s eyes trained unmercifully on Steve. 
It’s not that. They’re right. It’s worse. 
-
There’s something psychosexual about the game of tennis. The grunting, the tiny little skirts, the whacking of balls. The amount of money rich people love to spend on it. There’s something evil here, and you’ve committed yourself to a summer of trying to figure it out. 
Well, half-committed. Your real commitment is making enough tips to make a dent in your looming student loans. Post-graduation, a friend had given you a hot tip about private tennis clubs in Miami. They use hundos like napkins there, girl. Go get your piece. 
Your nana lives in Miami. Lived. She’s dead now, three months. You’re living in her condo now– technically in a seniors complex, assisted living type of thing, but it’s okay. It’s quiet. The people chat and force you to play bocce ball sometimes, the only sport you understand. 
Tennis, you don’t understand, other than the fact that these people have more money than they know what to do with and they’re all too repressed to grunt in the privacy of their own homes. 
After a time or two taking drink orders and bringing their rackets for in-house repair, they all blend into the same amorphous blob– the white outfits-on-white people effect does not help. They tip you in enormous digits, confident that you’ll remember them and treat them right, but you don’t have that skill. Some of your co-workers do, but you don’t. 
So, you notice when someone stands out. 
You smell him before you see him, and you know how that sounds, but bare with– 
The thickening, insistent incense smell of patchouli. Rainwater. Dust. Lemon.
When you turn from your place behind the bar, fetching your eighth double vodka soda in what seems like as many minutes for another bleach-blond man in his mid-forties, he’s leaning with one elegant elbow propped on the marble top. Sunglasses push over a shock of brown hair, streaked with blonde from the Florida sunshine. 
“Macallan, buddy. Up.” But he’s not talking to you. He’s talking to the bartender, Trent, the picture of incompetence. Trent nods to him, smiling broadly, but that flattens into a hard line as he turns toward the bar. 
This guy politely turns his head, eyes glossing right over you. But you are just staring a bullet hole right though him, and you can’t help it. He’s magnetic. He’s dressed in a light blue linen suit, a far cry from the tennis uniforms or the hollering Versace shirts every other man in the place seems to be wearing. The slope of his shoulders suggest something… provincial. 
He’s not a city boy– man. This is a man. 
You hear a clatter to your immediate right and see Trent pouring a finger of Chivas into a tumbler. 
“Oh, Trent, that’s not–” 
He passes it off to the linen gentleman, this Miami cowboy, with a serene smile. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a Chivas and a Macallan, but you would. 
And you bet he would too. 
He departs in a cloud of the same heavenly scent he’d arrived in, heading courtside to watch trust fund kids fumble over backhands. 
“Trent,” you say, reaching for the correct bottle and a fresh tumbler. “Meet Macallan. For next time, okay?” 
The blond kid just shrugs at you. “All that shit tastes the same to me.” 
To you. 
You linger near the arm of his chair before speaking, suddenly able to hear your pulse in your ears. Up close, you can see moles dotting the hand holding the errant glass of Chivas. A big hand too, it seems to dwarf the crystal. 
“Excuse me,” you say, as steady as you can manage. It’s not very steady. You wish you would’ve thought to check your makeup before you made a beeline out here, but time, you couldn’t help but feel, was of the essence. 
He looks up at you over his sunglasses and you think your knees might buckle. 
Eyes like a dark wood. Inviting you in. The kind of eyes that don’t look through you. 
Christ, people had been looking through you all summer, but it didn’t matter now. 
“Is that the Macallan?” he mumbles conspiratorially. 
You just– nod, uniform-required ponytail bouncing. 
“I’ll trade you,” he says, about to pass off the glass of Chivas, but then he pauses. Takes you in, surveying you in a way that makes you blush, “if you can finish this one with me.” 
“Um…”
“Is that allowed?” he asks, “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Trouble be damned. The hell with trouble. Not only is your reputation as a little worker bee here untarnished, you can’t not sit with him. 
“I’m due a break, actually.”
“So I’ll trade you. Sit down, get comfortable. Give me the scoop on these tennis brats.”
He leans in to take the glass of Macallan from you, to pass off the glass of Chivas, and he brushes your hand. You experience the full entirely of a cliche, feeling electricity thrum under your skin– but then he passes a fingertip over the ring finger of your right hand. 
“That’s a pretty piece,” he hums, “Princess, right?”
For a second, you falter. Princess? Me? But it’s the ring he’s referring to– the yellow diamond engagement ring that once belonged to your nana. 
“Close!” you say, twisting the band on your finger in an act of self-consciousness. “Carré cut. Less pricey than a princess.”
“But just as pretty.” 
“And more rare, actually.” 
“Huh,” he says, and you smooth your skirt out with one hand, taking the seat nearest him. Enveloping yourself in the cloud of him. “Rarer than a princess.” 
From the court, a headband-wearing pre-teen in dazzling whites hollers fuck you, Mommy! Fuck you and your fucking bullshit topspin! I fucking hate this place!
“I’ll drink to that.” 
-
NEW YORK CITY, 1995
The car door slams behind Dustin Henderson, raindrops rolling from the brim of his baseball cap. It’s late November and a freezing rain has descended upon the Diamond District. 
Steve had at least hoped he might see sunshine when he got out of the joint. 
From the wheel, he cranes his neck to the back seat where Dustin sits, wiping the dripping water from the hat’s beak. His Thinking Cap. He’s had that thing since he was a kid and has somehow managed to keep it in immaculate condition. Dustin loves details. Dustin also loves risk. Which is why he’s the only man for this recon job. 
“Tell me,” Steve says, tone as level as he can possibly keep it. 
“She is way hotter than I remember.”
“Dustin.”
“Miami always makes people less hot. I think it’s the heat,” the kid chuckles, an obvious attempt at lightening a tense mood. See, they weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t supposed to be looking for you. Robin hadn’t said don’t go looking for her, but that more or less should have been in the terms of Steve’s release from Sing Sing. 
“Dustin.” 
“She’s in there, just like you said she’d be in there. It’s a white room and it’s got every kind of goddamn sparkler you could think of. Three layers of security. Three. What kind of jewelry store you ever been to that’s got three layers of security?” 
A detail like that would make a less accomplished thief sweat. But Dustin and Steve share a knowing smile. 
“A jewelry store selling stolen jewelry.” 
“Exactly,” Dustin nods. “I thought she’d be front-of-house, but she’s got her own office. Tucked away in the corner. Appointment only.” 
“Any availability?”
The younger man smirks. “For me or for you?” 
-
Buddy’s is the last place in midtown you can get a decent drink and not be surrounded by throngs of yuppies. 
You know this, because you tend to date the yuppies in the throng. 
This is the one place that seems to be universally avoided by the trader set– it’s too dark and wooden in here, no brutalist architecture to make them feel at home while they rail lines of coke off their girlfriend’s compact mirrors. 
At Buddy’s, there’s a pianist that’s been propping up the corner for the last half century, minimum. A carpet that’s never been shampooed spreads across the floor and the mahogany is dented in all the places the light doesn’t hit. You can smoke indoors. Everything Happens to Me by Chet Baker will play, and everything feels like it’s going to be alright. At least until happy hour ends. 
You have a regular seat by the bar, a vantage point for people-watching. A gin martini, hold the vermouth, sits waiting for you by the time you arrive. On an average Thursday, you spend a couple of hours drinking three of these in an act of decompression from the violent fluorescent lighting of your workplace. From peering through a looking glass, examining the way light refracts through gemstones. 
From moving cargo that isn’t yours to move. 
This Thursday has been no different. 
You drag a finger along the condensation of your martini glass, it’s perfect conical shape a welcome weight in your hand. 
Your hair is piled up on top of your head, and you wear your reading glasses, and though you are beautiful, no one bothers you. Nothing bothers you. 
Until you hear a sound you haven’t heard in years. 
Tapping, against the bartop. One, one. Two, two. Three, three. Nerves. It was the only time you could ever tell that he was nervous. 
“Macallan, buddy. Up.”
Fucker.
-
He knew you by every single detail about you, let’s get that straight. 
He is entirely sure that in a room of a thousand clones of you, he would be able to pick out the real one, just from your minute sigh. From the way your one shoulder always slopes. From curl at the base of your neck. 
From the way you play with your grandmother’s Carré cut diamond, still sitting pretty on your right hand. 
He positions himself a number of seats away from you, from the seat that he’s been watching you sit at for a couple of nights in a row now. He does not approach you directly. 
Partially to see if you’ll still remember him. 
Steve is still vain, in his ways. He wants a spotlight shone on him. 
He only ever remembers the warmth of yours. 
He orders the same drink he ordered that day you met at the tennis club, the same way. He even hopes the bartender will mistake the Chivas for the Macallan and you’ll have to climb over the bar and charmingly correct him. But Antoine, as he’s heard you call him, has been behind this bar longer than Saint Peter at the pearly gates, so there’s no fear of that. 
You don’t react right away, and he doesn’t expect you to. He savors it, in fact, the opportunity to slyly watch you. Even if you’re seething. Even if you’re seething, you’re seething like a goddess might seethe. Horrifying and beautiful, all at once. The definite end of him. 
Then, the lack of attention you’re showing him stretches on a beat too long. 
“Excuse me,” he says from his spots a couple of seats down, “Can you do me a favor?”
You don’t respond. This doesn’t stop him. Never has.
“You mind tasting this for me?” Steve pushes the glass toward you, sending it sliding down the bar. You catch it with your right hand, yellow diamond catching in the light. A cut like that has never sparkled until you’ve worn it. “You think that’s Macallan or Chivas? Be honest.”
Steve’s fingers flex unconsciously as you lift the glass. Tilt it toward your lips. Still making no eye contact. But you don’t sip. 
“I think you should be in prison,” you say into the crystal tumbler and place it back on the bar top. “Why the fuck are you not in prison.” 
Steve closes the space between you, taking in that powdery perfume you’re still wearing after all this time. Candied violets. He settles into the beside you and props his palm under his chin. 
“Why are you selling stolen jewelry.”
He sees you tense for a brief moment, then release. Like you knew he’d say that, like you should have seen that coming. Because you know him, and you always see him coming. Other than Robin, you’re the only one that ever has. 
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
“So that when some bastard in a bad linen suit asks me to hold on to some stolen jewelry, I’ll at least know how much it’s worth.”
A beat. You stare Steve down with such naked disdain that his heart twists in his chest. You hate him, and he sees that, and with all the evidence stacked up against you, he should hate you too. But that wasn’t what bit him.
“That suit wasn’t bad, Princess.”
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stevie-petey · 1 month
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i have YET to read your st rewrite series BUT i’m super excited to read it - and i’m SUPER excited to read season three. (i’ve read all the little dialogues you’ve posted and that just gets me so giddy)
omg take ya time !! im just happy you love the lil dialogues and wanna read in the first place <333 season 3 is gonna be so chaotic with erica in the mix and im so so so excited to write robin ugh i love her
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fear-is-truth · 3 months
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i feel love - donna summers !!
such a classic and it’s absolutely beautiful just like u & ur writing!
me in three pictures:
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theladybarnes · 5 months
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☆ put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. It's time to spread positivity 🤍🧚🏻‍♀️
You sent this to me so long ago but thank you so much! 🩷🩷🩷
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rowanswriting · 5 months
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hiiii 🫶🏻 i meant to send this yesterday, but i didn’t get too.
i just wanted to say i hope you’re having a way better day today, you deserve it. 🫶🏻
Thank you so so much honey! Today is much better! I hope you are doing well too! 💙💙
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joshlmbrt · 5 months
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gonna rewatch ahs:freakshow.
for uh
uh
uh
uh - um
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um
no reason at all.
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littlexdeaths · 1 month
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strange love - s.h.
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king steve harrington x loser fem reader
everybody wants to know, if we fucked on the bathroom sink…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: underage drinking (everyone is 18+), mean!dom steve, steve is a major asshole, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, steve makes reader cry, some good ole’ angst
a/n: this is a reworking of my first steeb fic i ever wrote on my old account. i hope you enjoy xx. and thank you to @stveharringtn for looking this over and hyping me up. ily cherry 💕
based on strange love by halsey
word count: 2.4k
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You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.
And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. The night would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm.
Despite all that you go anyway, your heart severely outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping it would capture his attention. But the male didn’t glance your way the entire night, and you felt utterly defeated.
Why you didn’t leave after an hour of being ignored is beyond you, a small part of you still holding out hope. Leaning against a wall in the hallway you watch with disdain as your classmates drunkenly grind on each other. It was one of the last parties of the summer before college classes started, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.
Everyone except for you.
“This was a stupid idea,” you mumble to yourself, glancing down at your drink with a deep sigh. Swirling the now lukewarm beer around in your cup, no longer interested in people watching. Drunken laughter pulls you from your sulking, watching in utter annoyance as Tommy attempts a keg stand in the middle of the living room.
A large crowd has surrounded him, giving you the perfect opportunity to find Jonathan and leave.
However, feeling a piece of paper being slipped into your hand stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes searching for the source of the note. A familiar flutter starts in your lower belly as you catch sight of him, the male now halfway up the stairs. You quickly unravel the crumpled page to find a few words written in his messy script.
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You immediately crumple the note in your palm, downing the rest of your beer before you make your way up to the second floor. Despite the large and somewhat confusing layout, you navigated the dark halls with ease. As you knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.
This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to be a one time thing. To get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. After finding him tangled in the sheets with Vicki Carmichael at a party quite similar to this one. All because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it stung, a bigger part of you was incredibly relieved.
Something never fully cliqued with him, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were very good friends, and played basketball together. So it seemed fitting to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, knowing you’d give it up to Steve and not him. But the truth is you’d always secretly had a thing for Steve for years.
That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.
Steve was more than happy to fulfill your wish, not knowing your motive behind it. But what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. Once he had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. However you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge now being thrown out the window.
Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you much preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so instead of arguing you went along with it. Agreeing to a secret friend with benefits relationship, despite knowing you’d want more. Feelings aside it didn’t stop you from hooking up with him multiple times a week, which brings you back to the present.
Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet.
But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. Where anyone could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening.
You found yourself bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs. Tugging his shirt over his head, not bothering to take off his jeans in his impatience to have you.
“God you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.” He growled in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your soaked heat.
The male is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his strong hands. Your own hand drifts between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and encircling it with your fingertips.
Glancing into the mirror in front of you, you watch his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticks to his forehead, no longer styled in the perfect swoop he had it in before you entered the bathroom. His dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches you intensely.
“Hm, look at how pathetic you look honey… letting me use you like a whore.” He grunts, leaning in closer and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth, “But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”
You find yourself nodding, unable to speak. Partially due to the hand still covering your mouth, but you knew even if it wasn't there it wouldn’t have made much difference. The male had fucked any logical thoughts from you at that point.
But you can’t deny the way your body reacts to his words, your walls tightening around him at the mere mention of belonging to him… and him alone. Something Steve doesn’t miss either.
“That’s cute baby…” he chuckles, letting his lips graze along the exposed skin of your throat. “Glad she knows exactly who she belongs to.”
Tears of pleasure blur your vision, mascara streaming freely down your cheeks. Your fucked out reflection stares back at you as he continues to pound into you from behind. Hooded eyes drift to gaze at him once more, seeing how his mouth falls open in a moan as you continue to pulse around his cock.
His sun kissed skin was beautifully flushed, his days spent as a lifeguard at Hawkin’s community pool were treating him extremely well. It made you want nothing more than to leave a trail of dark bruises along his freckled neck— effectively marking him as yours.
But you knew that couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. His reputation as the town’s local biggest player was far more important to him than you could ever be. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe.
You watch in awe as his head tilts back, exposing more of his throat to you. His adam’s apple bobs as he moans, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and taste the sweat that’s coating his skin in a glossy sheen.
Steve just looked so pretty like this, on the edge of release. While you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him.
You can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, continuing to rub your clit faster. You cry out against his hand, the whimper of his name now muffled by his palm. Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees almost buckling as he fucks into you harder.
“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do. it. again.” He growls lowly in your ear, dropping his hand away from your mouth.
Quickly knocking your own out of the way to continue rubbing your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he had you hurtling towards another one, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with acute precision.
Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, a cocky expression crosses over his features as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with both hands, biting down harshly on your lower lip to stop the scream that wants to escape your lungs.
In your euphoric state you don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes watch you possessively, pride filling his chest knowing he’s the only man who has ever seen you like this. The only man to ever make you feel this way, and he planned on keeping it that way. Selfish as it was.
The blissed out look on your face is the thing that finally breaks what little composure he had left. The male burying his face in the crook of your neck as he paints your inner walls with his release. Stilling his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you.
Steve’s secret way of marking you as his.
As both of you attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carry on as if nothing happened. When Steve finally releases your hips, you grip tighter onto the counter to support yourself. Knowing your knees were far too wobbly to keep you upright. A soft whimper leaves your lips as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. In more ways than one.
The male is quick to tuck himself back into his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it makes your body feel hot. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him as he finishes tucking his polo back into his levi’s.
“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his tousled locks.
The door closes softly, and that familiar feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by it at this point, as your little hookups always ended the same way.
With Steve thoroughly pleased with himself, and you all alone.
You can’t stop the moisture from flooding your vision, carefully sitting down on the edge of the tub. Gripping the hem of your dress in your fists as you ruin whatever makeup was still left behind. Shoulders shaking as silent sobs rack through your chest.
In that moment you made a promise to yourself, you wouldn’t let any man— especially someone like Steve fucking Harrington make you feel this way again. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.
You continue to let the traitor tears fall for a while before returning to your feet. Glancing back in the mirror you barely recognized yourself, your usual bright eyes were dull, bloodshot and puffy. The little makeup you had done was now smeared across your cheeks. With a frustrated sigh you attempt to collect yourself before returning to the party.
Cleaning the black streaks from your face, adjusting your rumpled dress until you looked somewhat presentable. Taking a deep breath you finally leave the safety of the bathroom, descending the carpeted stairs on shaky legs. No one pays you any mind as you make your way back into the sea of people.
But what you find in the living room feels like a punch straight to the gut.
Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. His large hands that were previously gripping onto your hips were now splayed across her bare thighs. Inching higher and higher up as she tangles her fingers in his hair. You can only stand to watch for a moment longer before bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink.
Thankfully the room was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette who was sipping on a can of Pepsi. You don’t say anything to him, grabbing an open bottle of vodka off the counter and bringing the rim to your lips. Enjoying the familiar burn as you greedily gulp down the clear liquid at an alarming fast rate.
Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to grab the bottle from you. You quickly dodge him, shoving him away with a dirty look.
“Jonny stop! I’m having fun, see?” You roll your eyes before dramatically taking another large swig. Your best friend had seen you drink plenty of times before, but never like this. He knew you well enough to know there was clearly something wrong.
Before you can go back in for another drink he grips onto the base of the bottle, wrestling it from you with a grimace. Before slamming it back onto the counter, making you wince slightly at the sound of the impact.
“That’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”
His tone is stern, but laced with worry. You find yourself pouting in response, a small hiccup leaving you as he sighs. The only reason Jonathan was even here in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington.
But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid, “Fine dad… take me home then.”
Jonathan rolls his eyes at your childish behavior before wrapping his arm around your waist to help guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was definitely starting to take effect, as you stumbled alongside him. Now suddenly a lot more grateful for his help.
What you don’t notice in your tipsy state was a pair of honey eyes watching you both from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helps you out into the warm summer night.
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taintandviolent · 2 months
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JUST seen that you reblogged the angsty prompts!!! so i’m coming at you with another request - forgive me </3
maybe ‘you scare me’ with kai !!!
warnings: Kai being Kai.... y'know. language. kinda dialogue heavy? maybe? I don't know.
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In Kai’s basement, a presidential debate is on in the background, the words blurring together, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat, your own pulse throbbing in your head. Feeling dizzy, you stood next to the table, hands hovering over it. Kai waited. Patiently. Too patiently, as though he had all the time in the world – which you knew he didn’t. He acted as though he did and that unsettled you to your core. 
After a shaky breath, you looked from the seat to him and back again. “You scare me.” 
“I know,” he affirmed with a smile. He gestured to the seat across from him. You finally took a seat, knowing that once you put your elbow on that table, pinky out, there was no going back. You hesitated, but Kai urged you down with a nod of his head. 
It was just you two now. No one else in the world. You pulled the chair out, settling into it, with your hands in your lap. Kai’s smile, which had started to fade, generously returned, beaming at you proudly. You’d taken the first step; that was worth celebrating. You’d been honest with him without even taking his pinky… what a champion you were.
“I’m proud of you.” 
With his elbow resting on the table, he extended his pinky towards you. It waited there, like a death sentence. 
“Take it.” A beat. “I said, fucking take it!” 
You tried to steady your hand as you lifted your own pinky to his, curving it around his digit.
“What do you want?” You asked, starting off the questions. 
“I want you to stop being such a weak, pathetic bitch. You’re weak and afraid. Afraid of your own desires.”
You clenched your jaw, setting it hard. You weren’t going to confirm an insult. 
“You think you’re a sly little fox, fooling everyone.” 
You blinked back tears. Now he was getting too close. 
“The reason that I scare you, Y/N, is because I know you.” 
Your lips pursed, hot breath rushing out of your nose. You shook your head. 
He yanked you closer with your pinky, and whispered. “I want nothing but fucking honesty. That’s the whole point of a pinky swear. You’re not that stupid, are you?” 
You shook your head again, slowly. 
“That’s better. Now. I know you very well, and I know what you crave… but why don’t you tell me?”
You swallowed, and ran your tongue along your lips, wetting them as they’d gone dry with anxiety. “You.”
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powderblueblood · 2 months
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i always love reading your hashtags
thank u so much, it's even better if you picture me pacing around muttering them to myself like a detective with one cold case they just can't crack because let me tell you cherry. that's what i'm doing
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stevie-petey · 2 months
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💗🌷🌼 ✨This is the you are amazing award. Send it to ten bloggers you think are wonderful or just take a moment to bask in your own awesomeness! ✨ 🌼🌷💗
SENDING U SO MANY KISSES <3333
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lavendermunson · 2 months
Text
mine - steve harrington
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summary you get separated from the love of your life after spending the best night together, would the universe bring you back to him? based on this request, thank you so much!
cw college!steve, college!reader. fluff, angst and more angst then more fluff. modern times!! allusions to sex. reader wears glasses sometimes.
w.c 9.2k
a/n created a playlist for this one (i struggled a little bit and the songs helped) thank you to @stveharringtn and @ihatepeanutss for reading the early chapter and motivating me to continue ily! NO PROOFREAD BECAUSE IM EXCITED
dividers by @saradika
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I. Left a small town and never looked back.
Due to your parents' jobs, you had to move frequently, and the longest you stayed in one place was three years. You were so used to this, following the single rule for yourself: never get attached.
One problem, it was impossible not to fall for Steve Harrington. 
You met Steve in Hawkins, and the three years you spent together were magical. Talking late at night, going to the movies, and hanging out by the lake. Holidays were always spent with him, you invited him to your house, and your parents loved him. Even though your little brother was only 8 years old, he knew Steve was important to the family.  
The last year of high school was just around the corner. You’ve talked to Steve about graduating together, going to college, and spending the rest of your lives together. Watching each other through all the ups and downs of adulthood, you knew Steve was going to stay with you no matter what, he would be there for you, and you would be there for him. It was all a perfect dream, you’d have someone to celebrate your victories and cheer you up when the inevitable bad luck followed you around.
That dream was crushed when your parents told you they had to move again. You were heartbroken, and even more so because you were going to be separated from your favorite person. It was the first time you'd broken the rule, you got attached to Steve, and you fell in love with him.
The news broke him. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week, he wanted to be with you all the time, like you promised.
———
Before leaving Hawkins, you decided to confess your feelings for him. It felt wrong to pack that secret into your suitcase. Steve felt the same, he liked you too, but he didn’t want to admit he was in love with you yet. He decided to make your last day at Hawkins the best day you’ve ever had.
The first stop was the diner outside of town to eat burgers, fries, and milkshakes like you always do. At your favorite booth, this time it had a vase with flowers in the center of the table and a beanie babie.
“This is the one I saw in the magazine.” You take the white stuffed bear, it has a red ribbon around his neck and an embroidered red heart. 
“In case you need someone to hug,” he says, looking at the laces of his shoes and holding back his tears.
“Smells good! I’m so hungry.” You saw the way his smile faded, changing the subject was better than crying already. You had to enjoy the night.
While sipping from your freshly made milkshakes— stealing the cherry on top of his milkshake as usual—and watching Steve go over the old jukebox to play your favorite songs, the pocket of his jeans ended up empty from using all the coins he had.
“Get up! We have to dance.” Steve stands up, reaching for your hand.
He had to choose wisely for the next song, it was the last coin he had, so of course Be My Baby, by The Ronettes, was playing. He took your hand, squeezing it, and placed his free hand on your back to keep you closer. You rest one of your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast for you.
Everyone in the diner was watching you, but you didn’t care. You were in the arms of your boy, your love, and it was the last night with him before a while. You had to dance like nobody was watching.
Leaving the checkered floor and the red booths, the second stop was the theater, cuddling while watching ‘Before Sunrise’ . It's one of your favorite movies, and it came back to the big screen for its anniversary.
Both of you get the feeling that it is the perfect movie to watch on a day like this. It was perfect because you don’t know what’s going to happen with you two in the future, just like Celine and Jesse. Your love for each other looks like that, it feels like that, and the best part is that it’s real, not something written for a movie. You aren’t acting or performing. You are feeling it.
You feel so lucky you didn’t meet him for just one night, you had spent so much time with Steve. The endless walks around the park and picking flowers in spring while he holds the basket and you place your favorites on it so you can take them home. The fun summers, hanging out by the pool, and eating a lot of ice cream—one of those years you had free ice cream thanks to Steve working at Scoops Ahoy. You spent the entire summer making fun of his tiny sailor suit, not wanting to admit he looked really good in it. 
Fall was always fun, dressing up for Halloween, and joining the kids to trick or treat, so at the end, you can steal some of their best candy bars. The adorable winter, playing in the snow and getting your nose red, drinking hot cocoa and marshmallows while watching Christmas movies.
Everything comes back to your mind like you were watching your movie. Feeling safe and loved with Steve’s arms around you. You never fought before, nothing went bad, but everything was over. For a while.
Steve holds your hand while you walk through the parking lot. The night sky is decorated with stars, so big and bright. He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as you walk to his BMW. 
The last stop is Lover’s Lake. He parks his car in the usual spot—your favorite spot. It’s the best place to feel the magic of the water mixed with the light of the moon. A reminder that you exist on the same planet, even if the miles come between you.
The radio starts to play ‘Don’t you forget about me’. The song was perfect. You take a deep breath. This is a moment you will remember forever.
Both sitting in the hood of his car, he hugs you, shielding you from the cold breeze, and kisses the top of your head while your back rests against his chest. The tears start to spill from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You can't hold the sobs, your chest is giving up.
“Hey, hey!” He turns you around, softly cupping your face between his hands and rubbing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Don’t you dare forget about me,” you whisper, as if the trees were going to be disturbed by your sobs.
“I won’t, I’ll call you every day. But I am going to miss you so much,” he whispers back. 
“I’m scared, Stevie,” you sob, tangling your arms around his neck. “What if we can’t make it?”
“We will, we got this. The love I have for you is stronger than anything else, we won’t let the distance break us.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise”
Pressing his thumbs against your cheeks, he gets close to you. Your lips touch, and it feels like thousands of fireworks light up inside you. You feel one of his hands slide down your arm, and it makes you shiver. His hand rests on your waist and gives it a little squeeze. You jump closer to him than before, and you can feel his lips turn into a grin.
It wasn’t your first kiss with him. You kissed sometimes while playing spin the bottle or when Steve wanted to teach you how to kiss better.
“We will get through this. I'll see you again, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”
He kisses you again, and you open your mouth as he pushes your face to the side with his thumb. He slides his tongue to join yours and get more of the way you taste, honey, strawberries and cherries. Steve is being patient, taking his time brushing his tongue against yours and humming at how good it feels.
This kiss felt more magical, it made your insides bubbly, and your cheeks got warmer. But inside you, the clock was ticking, you had to savor this moment in case the universe turned against you again.
He breaks the kiss, trying to slow his breath. You do the same, opening your eyes slowly.
“I won’t do anything, not tonight." His voice is soft, but the tone is deeper. He feels a knot in his throat. “But next time, I promise I will make you feel so good.”
“I know, next time and the others. There’s only a couple of months left for summer break, and we will see each other again.”
“We will, baby. Now kiss me before I fall to the floor, you look so pretty tonight as you always do.”
“You are beautiful, Stevie.”He kisses you again, not getting enough of you. He kissed you before you went inside the house and he would’ve kissed you a thousand times more if he knew it was going to be the last time.
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II. Wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts. 
You were disconnected and heartbroken by the time you spent the first week of your last year of high school at a different school. Steve picked a few shifts a week at the local coffee shop after school, always with Robin by his side.
Hawkins felt so empty without you. Every time he saw a happy couple smiling, kissing, or hugging, he felt nauseous and jealous. His friends knew how he felt, they missed you too, but they never stopped calling you. 
The only thing that kept him going were your calls, you called every single night. Tell him about your day, your new school, and your new friends. He tells you about school, work, Robin, and the kids. It was good, he loved hearing your voice and watching you through his screen.
“I can’t believe it! I told you! Steve Harrington’s first A+ essay, and without my help. I feel a little wounded, you don’t need me at all!”
He felt so proud of himself. You were the last one to know about it but you are the most excited one. Even more excited than him.
“You are a great tutor, all those tips and seeing my practice essays marked with a pink glittery pen helped me a lot”
“I'm so proud of you, you are capable of anything I know!”
“Honey…” Steve’s worried face makes your heart sink.
“Yes?”
“I’m always going to need you. I can’t live without you.”
You press both of your hands against your chest as if that were going to soothe your pain. The damage you caused him is evident, you shouldn’t have broken that stupid rule.
“I miss you, Stevie. I can’t do this without you.”
“I miss you too, honey. And you can, you have me here. Always”
Steve feels his head heavier each minute, the long hours at the coffee shop kill him. 
“We should go to sleep, yeah?” he says, noticing your sleepy face. 
“We should. Good night. Call me tomorrow!”
“Please, I don’t know if I can survive without hearing your voice”
You get closer to your camera, blowing him a kiss.
“I’ll annoy you with my voice every night, honey!”
“I’d love that baby. Good night,” he says, blowing a kiss back.
When you hang up, he tosses his laptop to the floor. It falls on the pile of unwashed clothes he has. 
“Weird,” he says to himself, looking at his laptop resting on the clothes. He takes a look around his room. It’s a mess, he makes a mental note to clean it, and he can’t stress over it right now.
Steve lays with his back against the mattress. He remembers the way you brought your hands up to your chest. He does the same, hoping to understand why you did it.
His warm palms rest against his chest, now he knows. He feels it. Steve applies a bit of pressure to his chest, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.
So much for trying, it felt like maybe five minutes had passed, and when he glanced at his clock, it was six a.m. His alarm was about to go off, and he had to go downstairs, make breakfast, and get on his way to pick Robin up to go to school.
That’s when he lets out a sob. Time does pass without you, the world doesn’t stop, and he gets even more scared than before. 
Don’t you forget about me.
He grabbed his phone, clicking on his texts. You’ve already said good morning to him.
‘Good morning baby. I'll miss you forever. Have a nice day! Love you”
That’s when he takes a moment to reply. 
‘Good morning, hope you slept well. I love you too.”
And then he gets out of bed to spend another day without you by his side. Knowing you are slipping through his fingers already.
———
Three weeks later.
The calls stopped being frequent, sometimes you were too tired, or sometimes he was too tired. 
“I have to go, I'm exhausted. Can I call you tomorrow?” you ask him.
Steve had to ignore the arrow that just shot through his heart, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The more he talked to you, the more he missed you. When he knew you weren’t going to make it for the summer break he felt his heart break, every time he woke up he was already crying.
This broke your heart too, not being able to see him, or visit your friends. It felt like some strange and strong force was keeping you away and pushing you farther.
“Of course, honey. Sweet dreams”
“Sweet dreams, Stevie.”
He closes his laptop after you hang up, tossing it aside. The pile of clothes seems to be bigger. He swears to do it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Whenever he feels like he is alive.
Four months later.
The rush hour at the coffee shop ends up killing Steve’s back, and his feet are burning. To his surprise, his parents are home.
Can this day get any worse? Yes, you haven’t texted him back since yesterday.
"Steve, are you still wasting your time at that damn coffee shop?” His dad shouts he doesn’t have time for this. “Steve?”
He hears his dad’s heavy steps behind him. He catches Steve at the first step of the stairs.
“Didn’t you hear me? Say something!”
“I’m not wasting my time, I'm saving up for college,” Steve whispers. He can feel his dad’s warm breath against his face, and he can smell the whiskey too. 
“College? You are going to work for me, right?”
“No?”
“Then why go to college in the first place?”
Steve pushes his dad away, and his mother joins them.
“It’s clear, John.” she says.
“Say it, Steve.”
“To get the fuck away from you, that’s why,” Steve spits out. His eyes were burning, and tears were threatening to fall.
He gets away from them, locking himself in his room. He doesn’t mind looking at his phone or picking up his laptop, he just wants to fall asleep and get this over with. It has been such a long day.
Six months later.
It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to each other.
“Are you tired?” You ask, and he has been rubbing his eyes for the third time now. “You don’t have to hang up, carry me to your bed.”
Steve leaned his head to the side, just as a confused puppy does. 
“C’mon, I’ll read you a story so you can fall asleep. Like old times.”
“Are you sleeping late?”
“I have assignments to finish, I need to catch up with a few classes because I fell behind.”
“You’ll do great, honey. You are the smartest person I know!”
“Steve Harrington, you are the smartest person I know. We are a couple of months away from college and i'm really excited”
“Me too honey, it sucks you couldn’t come here for summer break”
You will see each other, you will. 
Steve shakes his head with a smile plastered on his face, holding the laptop in his hands. He lets himself lie under his sheets, fixing his pillow and resting his head on it. 
"Are you ready?” you ask him, sitting on your desk and getting comfortable for a long night.
“Ready, no scary tales, please!"
“I promise! Close your eyes now!”
Steve takes the last glance at you, his fingers reaching to touch his screen as if he were touching your face. But he can’t, you are too far away now and it kills him.
“Goodnight”
The bubbly feeling in your chest goes away when you don’t hear a nickname. No honey, no baby. 
“Goodnight!” You wait until his eyes are closed. “And we begin, once upon a time."
Steve falls asleep before getting to know what the story is about, he was so tired and this is the first time he has slept more than three hours.
You close your laptop after watching him turn to the other side. You are trying to return your attention to your assignments, but the only thing you can feel is your heart breaking again. The hope you once had is now fading away. You are managing to live without him, but you don’t want to. 
Steve regrets it. He regrets falling asleep. This time he didn’t wake up seeing your face, he didn’t get to hear your bedtime story, and he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you. And he regrets it so much because it was the last time he heard your voice.
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III. And every time I look at you it’s like the first time
Two years later.
Steve had a hard time finishing high school, but he did. Later, he had to retake a year, but he saved up some money with Robin to move to college. After jumping up and down and celebrating with their friends their acceptance letters, they got into the college dorms for the first year, but that went very badly because they couldn’t be roommates and all the noise from the dorm building was constantly giving them a headache.
He saw Nancy and Jonathan when they all came back from college over the summer break, hanging up with them was the best. They helped him and Robin choose the best apartment outside of college, it was close to the new coffee shop they were working on and close to their buildings. He never saw you again, you were too busy to travel, and he was too. Mindlessly forgetting about each other and not meeting again hurt less. 
When he had to retake a year, he hesitated to call you. He was ashamed of himself, you were supposed to go to the same college in the same year. 
When he finally got his acceptance letter, he didn’t call you. Steve had a feeling you got into college and that your life was going well. He knew he was right.
But it had a good outcome, Steve retook his senior year and moved in with his best friend to start a new chapter in his life. A life that he wanted to enjoy, free from the pressure of his parents and the small town that made him feel so small.
Their first year wasn’t easy. Steve spent most of his time in his dorm, and Robin did too. They didn’t go to parties and didn’t seem too excited about meeting new people.
He felt like a total stranger like he didn’t belong there. He picked the same coffee shop he was working in to hang out, he picked the public library over the school library because it looked terrifying.
Steve spent most of his weekends and days off studying, he was at the top of his class. Whenever he wrote an essay, it reminded him of you, but not as a sign of hope, just a reminder of his small town years.
Robin spent most of her weekends traveling to Hawkins to meet her girlfriend, Chrissy. Taking Steve’s car and cleaning it for him as a thank you.
Steve didn’t meet anyone else, he didn’t want to get attached. If anyone leaves, what’s the point? He was only close to two of his classmates, that was enough for him.
———
“Do you know who’s moving in?” your roommate asks, Diana was always aware of every gossip around college. It was your second year being her roommate, she slowly became your best friend.
“No, who?” You ask, not really wanting to know but giving her satisfaction again.
“A new couple! I hope they aren’t as loud as the last ones.”
“Please, I need to buy new headphones just in case.”
Diana laughs, walking towards her room to place some of the new boxes she moved in. You asked if she wanted help, but she didn’t because her brand new date was going to join her.
You decided to head up to the public library, knowing you had never been there and wanting to explore a new world. It was a couple of blocks away so you had to take the bus.
———
Steve and Robin were driving around their new neighborhood, looking for their new apartment. They were singing the songs on the radio, even if Robin didn’t know most of them because her music taste was original. But Steve knew every one of the trendy songs.
They stopped at a red light. Robin got distracted by two dogs ‘kissing’ each other. Steve looked away with a face of disgust, and that’s when his eyes fell on you.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, were you really there? Was he hallucinating? Maybe the smell of coffee is doing some damage to his brain.
But it was you, wasn’t it? without the signature choker, without the thousands of bracelets, and without the red lipstick always staining his shirts. Then it wasn’t you. You had glasses now, a gold chain around your neck, and your hair was slightly lighter.
The bus blocks his view; he wants to scream at it to move, and when it does, you disappear—or the hallucination he had of you disappeared—the honk of the car behind him makes him jump, the green light is on, and he has to move.
“Steve! Are you okay?” Robin shouts, scanning Steve’s face. He looks pale, confused, and scared.
“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says, looking over Robin and then the road ahead.
“You are only nervous, the apartment will be good, don't worry. If they scam us, we have Chrissy to defend us in court.”
“Yeah, stop it lovebird. We are here.”
The apartment buildings look so tall, almost intimidating. Steve drives around looking for the parking lot, and when he finds it, he and Robin take a moment to process it.
"I'm scared too, but we should go in. The moving truck will be here, and we will have a lot to do,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hands and giving them a light squeeze. “We got this”
“Yeah, we should go in now.”
They go over to their apartment, meet their landlord, and get their keys. The moving truck comes a couple of hours earlier, and they move in their new stuff after cleaning the apartment.
A couple of empty boxes and a lot of wrapping paper later, they are done. They only need the heavy couch.
“Even if I help you, we won’t be able to do it”
“I know! I’m thinking”
Steve and Robin are stressed now. Steve’s hair is disheveled already, and Robin’s mascara is smudged around her eyes. They had a long drive, and now they are so tired of getting the apartment ready.
“We should just knock at our neighbors. Their screams stopped.”
“Yeah, I should buy new headphones for that.”
He points in the hallway. Robins walks out of the apartment and knocks on the door. After a few knocks, the door opens, and Steve joins them.
“Steve? You are Nick’s friend, right? I saw you with him the other day,” a guy asks, introducing himself as Eric.
“Uhh yes, Nick! Nice to meet  you."He shakes his hand. “This is Rob, my friend.”
“Nice to meet you!” Eric says, “This is my..."
“I’m Diana, nice to meet you guys,” she waves at them.
“So, we need help moving on our couch. Could you help us?” Robin asks.
“Please, we are a great team, but that couch is very heavy,” Steve says. “What if you help us, and we invite you to eat some pasta? I saw a new Italian restaurant a few blocks away.
“Sure, we can help!” Diana says.
The four of them carry the couch with ease into Steve and Robin’s apartment, they thank their new neighbors, and they all high five, looking proud of themselves. 
“Thank you again, guys, we should go. I'm starving!” Robin smiles at them, and they all nod but Diana.
“Can I invite my friend? She can meet us there,” Diana asks. They all nod, but Eric.
“No way! She hates me,” he says, shaking his head, taking Diana’s hand, and stopping her from going into their apartment. 
“I told you it would take time. She is protecting me,” she says, dragging Eric with her into her apartment. “We will see you guys in a minute.”
“Sure, take your time,” Steve says. Their neighbors leave and shut the door behind their backs.
When they are gone, he wraps his hands around Robin’s neck. He looks over the apartment and smiles.
“We made it,” he says.
“We made it!” She says back, hugging his waist and rubbing his back.
They break the hug after a few minutes, looking over the almost finished apartment. There’s some stuff left to unpack.
“Wait for Chrissy to see this, she is going to love it.”
“Is she coming? Tomorrow?” Steve asks, looking at his friend and her lovesick smile.
“Yes! I think I'll finally ask her the question"
“Already? Isn't it too soon?”
“Dingus, when you know, you know. Life is short, we can’t lose time stressing over everything,” she says, rubbing his shoulders. “You will find someone, maybe not, you know who, or maybe you will. Let time choose.”
He knew Robin was talking about you. Even if Steve moved on and got his shit together, he was still missing you and the part of him you took with you. No matter how many dates he had, how many times Hopper talked to him. He wanted you, something far from impossible. 
“You should write that on a note and put it in the fridge." They both laugh. "I'm very proud of you.”
“Don’t make fun of me, or you will lose your best man spot. I will give it to Eddie.” Robin gets a napkin out of a box and cleans her mascara.
“Hey! Who used to drive you everywhere and still does?”
“I'm joking!”
“I know,” he says, giving her a pat on the back. “Good luck with your proposal.”
“I still need a ring, not all of us carry our grandmother’s rings everywhere we go.”
“Shut up! I'll help you get a ring.”
“Yes!”
They high five again, and they hear knocks on the door. They see their neighbors again.
“My friend isn’t coming, I think she is with her boyfriend. But we can go now!”
“Yay! Sorry about your friend."Robin gets closer to Diana, leaving Steve behind with Eric.
“Aren’t you together?” he asks.
“No, we are friends. Platonic with a capital P!” Steve replies, walking to the door and joining the girls.
“Cool, maybe you can date Teddy and smooth the anger out of her,” Eric says.
“Teddy?” Steve asks, walking to the parking lot.
“Oh, Di’s best friend,” he says, pointing at Diana. “She has this weird ass white teddy bear, and since then, I call her Teddy.”
“Oh, funny,” Steve says. A weird white teddy bear? No, no, it can’t be. His heart pounds harder against his chest, and he gets back to that night. The diner, the flowers, the beanie baby, and then someone who looked like you at the bus stop.
This can’t be real, he won’t get his hopes high again.
“Are you okay, man? You look scared,” Eric asks Steve, stopping him after he puts the key on his BMW. “Can you drive?”
“Yeah, I can. Don’t worry,” Steve says, his free hand over his chest. “It’s just something that happens.”
“He sees ghosts!” Robin shouts, making everyone laugh.
“We should walk guys, it isn’t that far,” Diana adds.
“Yeah, we could use some fresh air,” Robin says.
They all walk to the restaurant, enjoying a fun night. All of them get the feeling they’ll be close, but tonight they treat each other as strangers. Not sharing all but funny stories and college adventures.
———
When Diana gets home, you are already there, she walks over to the couch to wake you up and help you get to bed.
“Did you talk to Jake?”
“He picked me up from the library, we didn't-"
“Another time will come."
You hum, walking with her to your room. She closes the door, and you walk towards your bed, put your pajamas on, and slip into bed. You try to sleep, trying to keep all the midnight-crushing thoughts away, with the BMW in the parking lot on your mind, it looks very familiar.
———
It’s only 8 a.m, and you sit at home, eating your oatmeal bowl with strawberries, bananas, and a cup of coffee you’ve made yourself. You point to the cup you made for Diana, it has been sitting there for a few minutes. Maybe she wanted a cold brew instead of a nice hot cup. 
“One is Rob, and the other... I don’t remember.”
“Di! You are really bad with names.”
“Are you sure you don’t want ice on your coffee?” you joke.
“No, and yeah, I was a little stoned too, that’s why I don’t remember well.”
“That’s always going to cost you, babe.”
“I know, but I can introduce them later! We are all going to a party, and Rob will pick us up after work because the girl had to see her girlfriend.” She chugs her cup of coffee and puts her jacket on.
“Are you sure his name is Robert?”
“No, it’s Rob!” She still looks unconvinced, but you leave it. “Anyway, is Jake picking you up?”
“I don’t know, we aren’t really on speaking terms.” 
Jake was your boyfriend a couple of weeks before he asked you for a break, and you haven’t “fixed it." He picked you up from the library yesterday, and the whole ride home was quiet and uncomfortable, but something tells you it isn't going to last.
“Call him! He is good for you.”
“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll see you later then.”
“I’ll see you later, babe!”
“Be careful!”
———
You finish washing the dishes and go back to your room to get ready for the party. Minutes later, Diana and Eric show up to drive you to the house. It’s the first party of the semester, and everyone seems pretty excited about it except you. You know if you see Jake again, he will probably break up with you, rip off the band-aid, and go to the girl who has been hanging out with him at the gym.
But you go, not wanting to miss out and excited to see some of your friends who arrived in town. It might not be the best night, but at least you’ll have a cup of cranberry juice with vodka to survive.
You arrive at the party early, not wanting to talk to anyone, yet you get closer to the table in the middle of the dining room and make yourself a cape cod. When it’s done, you get to the living room and sit on the couch, watching as people come over, and some of them wave at you and say hi before going for their drink.
Jake arrives with a girl by his side, He gets closer to her ear to whisper something, and she turns around as he walks to you.
“Can we talk?”
“You are going to break up with me, aren’t you?” You pinch your eyebrows together. 
“Let me explain.”
He sits on the arm of the couch you are sitting on, so close to you. You can already hear his words muffling and how sorry he is about all of it, making up excuses to let you know it’s not your fault he is doing this and the two of you should end your relationship now. Avoid telling the truth and spinning around the subject, reminding you of all the good moments but also all the fights and “breaks” you had.
You look at him through your eyelashes, your tears rolling down your cheeks. Your now ex-boyfriend pinches your chin with his fingers, not letting your gaze fall to your lap or the cup you hold in your hand. He whispers “I’m sorry” thousands of times more, and you refuse to move, feeling the warmth of his fingers against your face for the last time. Then he leaves you alone to find his date, and you wish the earth could swallow you whole.
———
When Steve gets to the party with Robin and Chrissy by his side, he lets the two of them look for a place while he gets their drinks. The house is so tiny that everyone is squeezing each other and bumping into each other on the way to other rooms. Everything smells like alcohol and weed, and even the floor is sticky, but after all, Steve manages to get to the dining room and look for the red solo cups. He takes one and pours tequila into it. He drinks it, feeling the burn down his throat as he keeps his eyes closed. He needs more of these to survive the night.
He looks around, recognizing some people he used to see around in his first year, some of them are customers in the coffee shop he works in. When his head looks over to the living room, he sees the girl from the bus stop, the one who looks like you. 
Steve gets even more confused as you chug your drink, the solo cup covering your face. He turns his head away from the view, even if it’s not you, his mind betrays him.
Where’s the real you? What are you doing right now? Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A child? A cat? Are you married? 
The question that hurts more is the one he used to think about almost every night. Would he see you again?
He tries to enjoy the party as soon as he sees the girl leave. He misses watching Diana run after you and try to comfort you. 
Your friend takes you home, and Steve stays until the party is over, and he is a bit more sober to take Robin and Chrissy back to their apartment.
———
“Robin? Why did you leave so soon?” Steve asks Robin over the phone, while he tosses empty boxes and bags around.
“We are getting you breakfast! Jesus, what’s your problem?”
“I’m hungover, and I forgot I have to send this email before twelve, but I can’t find my laptop charger, and I can’t find yours either!”
“Shit, I took mine because Chrissy needed my laptop, but I'm sure yours is in your room. We unpacked everything.”
“Fuck! I’ll call you back.”
“Ask Diana for one!”
Stressed out, Steve hangs up the phone before listening to Robin’s last words. Of course, he can ask his neighbor for a favor, and he knows Diana is nice. 
He gets out of his apartment, and a few steps later, he gets in front of the door. He knocks a lot of times to get Diana’s attention, or maybe Eric’s. Steve doesn’t remember if they got back here from the party, but it’s worth trying.
As the door opens, he takes a step forward. “Hey! My laptop charger broke, and I have to send this very important  email-" He takes a deep breath, not believing who is in front of them. “What-”
“It’s you,” he whispers, feeling a knot in his throat and rubbing his clammy hands together.
“It’s me” You rub your eyes one more time, getting rid of the blur on your eyes from being woken up. “Steve?” Your heart starts to beat against your chest so fast that you swear it’s hurting you.
Steve stares at you, it’s like the first time he saw you all those years ago. He didn’t believe in love at first sight until he felt his body giving up and just yearning for you. He feels it all again, you look even more beautiful than before, but with your signature heavy gaze. 
“I'm sorry if I’m interrupting, I can just...“
“No? no. Uh, come in, let me find my charger.”
This is not how you imagined seeing him again. The last time you dreamt about him, you were seeing him for the first time at the Hawkins airport, You ran to him, and he caught you in his arms, kissing every inch of your face. And now, with your heart beating faster than ever and your feet carrying you to your room, you can’t help but feel like you are having a nightmare.
You hurry up, find your charger, and run back to Steve.
“Here, you can keep it. I have two of them,” you say. He still looks at you with his mouth slightly open and his eyes studying every part of your face.
Keep it. He knows you are doing this because you are nice, but a part of you still recognizes all the love you once had for him. Or have, because it never faded away. It’s still your Steve, slightly older and with a confused expression on his face. 
He takes the charger from your hands, your fingers touching him for a couple of seconds. When you finally lock eyes with him, you can see his glassy eyes while yours look the same. He didn’t want to believe it was you, you were so close all this time.
“I thought i’d never see you again,” you whisper, almost inaudible, but he can hear it. As if its ears were trained to hear even the lowest tone of your voice. 
But the air feels tense, awkward. He doesn’t say anything, and you stand in front of him like before, frozen in your place as a wave of anxiety washes you over. You stare at each other, trying to avoid all these feelings rushing through your veins.
“I need to send this email, I’ll be right back.”
He goes back to his apartment, leaving you and your overwhelming feelings alone. You close the door to your apartment and take some time to process everything. Steve is here, your Steve. The boy you once called the love of your life, the only boy you’ve ever loved.
You weren’t sure you were going to see him again. You gave up on it a few months ago, knowing it would take a miracle to see him again. And he was so close to you all this time.
When you hear the knock on the door again, you open it faster this time. Steve stands up in front of you, watching your tears roll down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you so tightly as if you were going to disappear. Your arms hug his torso, letting your head fall against his chest for a second before your sighs turn into sobs.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Steve whispers, convincing himself to not let you go. He fears the alarm will go off and he will have to wake up from his dream. 
“I know, it feels like a dream, please don’t let go,” you say, as if you were reading his mind all this time. 
“I won’t”
Steve rests his chin on your head, letting his own tears fall. You stay in the hug for a long time, feeling his warmth against your body, and his arms push you closer to him. You dig your fingers in his back, wanting to feel him more and wishing for this not to be some sick joke.
He places one of his hands on your head, kissing your forehead, before leaning back and searching for your face.
“Hi,” you say as you look at him, tears on his face just like yours.
“Hi,” he smiles, slightly. You do the same, looking at every inch of his face. Remembering all the moles your mind seemed to forget with the time.
You admire each other, letting your mind take you back to Hawkins and all those years you spent together.
“I missed you so much,” he says, slicing the awkward silence with a knife, now rubbing your back and trying to get you relaxed. As your sobs stop, you let go of him and invite him inside.
“I missed you too.” You smile again. The inches separating you are killing you, but there’s too much to say and feel.
“You stopped calling,” Steve says, with a sour tone in his voice you’ve never heard before.
“The phone works both ways.” You bite back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Protecting you from what’s coming.
“I-” Steve mutters, avoiding your eyes and looking all over the room.
“You? What? Did you forget about me?” you ask. “We made a promise.”
The mix of feelings that sit right at the top of your chest starts to reveal themselves. It’s all so confusing, and you weren’t prepared for this. You want to blame him for the time lost, but you know it’s also your fault.
“Why are you bringing this up right now? I saw you for the first time at a fucking bus stop and thought I was going crazy. It’s too much!”
Steve feels relieved; his mind wasn’t betraying him, and he wasn’t going crazy. It was really you—the new you. 
“Just say the truth. You didn’t answer my call when I got into college or when I moved in.”
“You called?”
“I called your house since you didn’t reply to my texts or emails. No one answered.”
“I got into a fight with them, and I moved in with Hopper. I was having a hard time, I’m sorry.”
He confesses. You see the way his lips turn into a pout, his tears threatening to fall again.
“What happened?”
“I messed up, had to retake a year.”
"Oh,” it’s the only thing you can think of. Some things made sense, but you still had a lot of questions.
“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and so disappointed in myself. No one heard about you, or your family, so I thought you didn’t want to see me, and I had the feeling you were fine without me.”
“We had to move again, two times. But this is the college of our dreams, I didn’t see you here the first year. I thought you chose a different one.”
“You know me, I don’t break promises.”
He looks back at you again, it takes everything in him not to walk to you and kiss you. It takes everything in you to not do the same.
“Listen, I have an interview today, but can we have dinner? I still have a lot of things to say, a lot of things to ask, and it’s been so long.” you blur out. 
“Sure, I have a shift at the coffee shop, so I’ll see you at seven?”
“Yeah, that’s okay, Where do you work?” you ask, suddenly shivering. It’s really him, this isn’t a dream.
“In a coffee shop that’s on Main,” he replies, “I know you never go there, I would’ve seen you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
Right. Diana mentioned a boyfriend. His heart suddenly stops, fearing that he is seeing you again just to lose you again.
“I know,” he says, resting his hands on his hips, looking around the room to avoid your eyes again. “Good luck on your interview.”
“Thank you, good luck on your shift." You can feel the awkwardness coming back, the uncomfortable silence threatening to come back. “I’ll see you at seven!”
“I’ll pick you up here,” he says, You can only nod before he turns his back on you. 
"Stevie,” you say. He is about to open his front door when he hears your voice again.
“Yes?” he says, turning his head slightly to see you. He missed that nickname, you are the only one who calls him like that. 
You want to keep talking and confessing your true feelings right now, but you have things to do. He is more important than everything else, you got him back, you don’t want to waste time. 
“Say hi to Robin for me.” 
He nods, then walks into his apartment. You close the door of yours once again.
Fear and excitement occupy most of your brain right now. You are praying for him to still want you, to love you back as much as you've loved him this whole time. Being his best friend would be a great start, but being back to be his love sounds even better.
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IV. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.
Steve paces around his apartment, Robin and Chrissy are back, and they watch him mumble something under his breath. 
“Everything will be fine, you will talk to her and get back together,” Robin says.
“What if she has a boyfriend? What if she is in love with someone else?” 
“You can always steal her away, Robin did that to me." Chrissy joins the conversation. 
They have been talking about you for hours. Steve decided to exchange his shift and stay home while Robin was taking her day off. He was too distracted to go to work today. 
“Dingus. Stop it! You are making me dizzy." Robin gets up, reaching for Steve’s hands and making him look at her. “You’ll see her when she is back, you are going to take her to that restaurant and talk like the adult you are. Okay?”
"Hot,” Chrissy blurs out.
“Thank you, sweetheart." Robin looks at her and winks. 
“Gross, get a room, you two!”  Steve’s disgusted face makes both girls laugh. 
“You can do it, dingus. You’ll get her back.” 
“I’m not sure if she feels the same or if I feel the same.”
“Didn’t you say she hugged you so tight you almost ran out of breath? That’s a good sign.” Robin’s hands travel to Steve’s shoulders, shaking him up and trying to wake him up from whatever nightmare he is making up in his head. 
“And don’t start. You’ve been rejecting girls, having failed dates, and looking like a lost puppy whenever you see a girl that looks slightly like her. You two are still in love, from what you tell me and from what I feel.”
“You are right, I'm still in love with her. But it’s been a long time. I changed, she changed too.”
“Changes are good, I know it because it was hard for me to accept the real me, but I took that step because I wanted to be free,” Robin confesses, stopping Steve from giving up. “Talk. Try. You met again for a reason, don’t let that go to waste.” 
Steve nods. “What would I do without you?” He hugs Robin for a minute before hearing some voices in the hallway. He hears the front door open and close, which means you and Diana made it home. 
“You’ll be lost without me! Good luck, dingus.”
“Go get your girl, Steve!” 
Steve walks to your door and knocks, to his surprise, Diana opens the door. 
"Hi,” he says nervously. “Is she here?” 
“Yeah, she will be ready in five.”
"Alright,” Steve says, his hands clammy again, and he finds himself shaking. 
“So, you are the guy she has been talking about nonstop.” 
“I guess yes,” he replies, feeling his heart racing again. You’ve talked about him. 
“Good for you,” Diana says, before you step in. 
"Hi,” you say, looking at Steve again. You find this odd, but you are thanking whatever it was that brought him to you again. 
"Hi,” he replies, his gaze heavy on you as he takes everything in. Your soft voice, the sweet smell of your perfume. 
“Home by ten!” Diana jokes, making you laugh and shake off the anxiety that took over your body. 
You walk away from the apartments, with Steve by your side. He glances at him from time to time, and you do the same. 
“How was your shift?” you ask him, trying to get rid of the awkward feeling that washes over you again.
“I didn’t go. Too distracted for it,” he says, looking over at you as you walk to the parking lot. “How was your interview?”
"Good,” you sigh, not wanting to ramble about it at this moment. “I hope I get the job.”
“You will, you can do anything,” he says when you reach his car, noticing it looks the same way as before. 
Nothing has changed, just time. Everything feels the same, like it froze, letting time pass over it without a single consequence. 
Steve looks at you, his brows knit in a frown, and he is almost chewing his lip.
“If you want to ask something, just do it,” you say, making him shiver. “I know you, maybe not so well anymore, but I do.”
“What if your boyfriend sees us?” he asks.
A chuckle falls from your lips, shaking your head and pushing the hair out of your face.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,  he broke up with me yesterday, and I saw it coming. I’m over it.”
“Oh, do you want to talk about it? We can stay at home, i can leave you alone, and we can reschedule our dinner because i don’t want you to feel like you.”
“I’m still in love with you,” you interrupt, confessing. With a soft look in your eyes, Steve gets lost in them. “I’m sorry, I can't waste any more time. I need to get this out of me. I’ve been looking for you in everyone, everywhere. You are here, and you look the same, I know time has passed, but I believe my love for you has kept you exactly as I remember you.”
Steve doesn’t know what to do, the truth is, he has been waiting to hear those words for a long time. He has been waiting to see you, to hug you, and to kiss you.
“I’m still in love with you too,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, pushing his golden locks back. The sun is setting completely, and you can still see how it shines. “I never got over you, I was forced to move on because i felt like I didn’t deserve you. And I never wanted us to fall apart, I needed you all this time.”
He gets closer to you, his chest almost bumping into yours. He hesitates to kiss you in the moment, even to touch your hand. The setting reminds him of the last time he saw you, your last night at Hawkins.
“If you want, we can try to make up for the lost time and give it another try.”
“I’d love that.”
He gets closer now, with your confession turning into an invitation. Steve places both of his hands on your cheeks, rubbing the soft skin with his thumbs. It takes you back to that night, it feels like you are relieving that moment just to make it right this time.
“Baby-” he is so close to your lips, his words tingle your lips, and you never stop looking into his eyes. Those sweet brown eyes you missed so much.
“I’ve missed that, honey." He laughs at the nickname, but it still makes him shiver and smile like a little kid.
“And I’ve missed you, kiss, please?”
Steve nods, pressing his lips against yours. It’s a soft, slow kiss. You can feel the breeze of the cold night on your face as you flush when Steve leans his head to the side to trap your bottom lip between his lips to taste you. You close your eyes, savoring the moment. One thing you forgot and cried for every night was this.
His warm lips against yours, his taste. His hands squeeze your cheeks as you press your body against his.
It’s the first kiss since that night, two years have passed, and this still feels so familiar. So safe. The kiss is even sweeter thinking of all the time you’ve dreamed about this, of all the unspoken feelings you communicate to each other with everything your lips brush.
When air is needed, you lean your head back a bit. You giggle at the same time, and he places a kiss on your forehead. Happiness takes over you, it feels like floating.
“I still have that beanie baby, you know?”
“I do, Teddy.”
“Don’t call me that!” You hit his arm slightly, and he chuckles while rubbing his arm dramatically.
“It’s cute, it suits you,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips, resting his hands on your hips this time.
“It’s ridiculous!” You scrunch up your nose, and he leans in to smooth it off with a kiss. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”
“Only if my dessert is going to be this sweet girl, the universe got back to me,” he says, picking you up, his arms hugging your waist. You can feel your feet dangling in the air. You tangle your arms around his neck so you don’t fall when he spins you around.
“Yes, yes, I'll be your dessert!” You giggle as you feel his lips on your cheeks, and when he stops, you peck his soft cheeks back. “In which house?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it depends on how loud you are.”
“Stevie!” Your cheeks glow red, and he laughs at your sudden flushed face.
“I’m joking! we‘ll figure it out later." He doesn't stop hugging you, even when he puts you down, your feet are now touching the concrete of the parking lot.
“Which one?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to hold back the giggle that is about to escape your lips.
“Both!” Steve says.
You get back in his car, and he proposes the idea of repeating everything you did that last night but with a different ending. You find a nice diner, not as nice as the one outside Hawkins,but it does the job. The old jukebox is there to dance after you eat burgers and fries and you end up stealing his cherry again.
When he picks up the sun, you get up from the booth where you are sitting and run up to him. One of your arms rests around his neck, and the other hand is holding your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours while his free hand sits on your waist. He pushes you to his chest, the closest he can get you to him, and you start to sway around the checkered floor of the diner. Dancing like nobody's watching, again.
“You are the best thing that’s ever been mine, baby." He sings along with the song before kissing you again.
“I’ve always been yours, honey”
This night is even more magical than the last one, and you’ll have tons of them.
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tags: all @munsonology @emistrash @livsters @paybacksawitch @ali-r3n @keeksandgigz @babybatlover @fanfictionlover277353 / steve @stveharringtn @double-vision-in-a-rose-blush
please please reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! my ask is always open if you have any feedback. thank you so much for reading ♡
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theladybarnes · 6 months
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YOU are the reason i came back to tumblr <3
your st rewrite is SO SO SO good and, honestly, has been one of my favorites.
i can’t wait to read chapter two <3333
!!!!! This is so incredibly sweet and kind to share with me! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story and where it’s been going so far. Thank you for sending this kind message. ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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seatnights · 3 months
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Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?
i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.
are u ready for this?
authors you SHOULD support:
oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories
OK SO
here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.
obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!
now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:
DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!
they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.
thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!
-🤍��🌱
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rowanswriting · 4 months
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HI BABE!!!! i hope you have the most wonderful day with so many blessing <3
You sweetheart thank you 🥹🥹🥹 I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day my friend ❤️
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joshlmbrt · 3 months
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STVEHARRINGTN PRESENTS….
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! there will be a mix of angst (hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort) & fluff. content warnings will be at the beginning of every thought/oneshot/drabble - if there is a certain song you would like to be tagged on, let me know in the comments!
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valentine’s day is a time for loving others & yourself. a time for imagining sweet scenarios and thoughts.
so, here’s a small playlist while you get stuck in daydreams of kisses, cake, and chocolate hearts.
LIKED SONGS 💌 Scott Street - Phoebe Bridgers (Galentine Special) 💌 Bad Idea Right? - Olivia Rodrigo (Gator Tillman Drabble) 💌 Prom Song (Gone Wrong) - Lana Del Rey (Jimmy Darling Oneshot) 💌 I’d Rather Go Blind - Etta James (Eddie Munson Oneshot) 💌 Not Like I’m In Love With You - Lauren Weintraub (Steve Harrington Oneshot) 💌 I Miss You, I’m Sorry - Gracie Abrams (Carmen Berzatto Drabble) 💌 Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey (James Patrick Thought) 💌 Make Up Your Mind - Florence + The Machine (Steve Harrington Drabble) 💌 The Last Time - Taylor Swift, Gary Lightbody (Det. David Loki Drabble) 💌 Just Like Heaven - The Cure (Steve Harrington Thought) 💌 Head Over Heels - Tears For Fears (Truck driver!Dad!Eddie Munson Drabble) 💌 Ceilings - Lizzy McAlpine (Gator Tillman Oneshot) 💌 Ivy - Sombr (Spencer Reid Drabble) 💌 Work Song - Hozier (Steve Harrington Thought)
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-comment below if you’d like to be tagged in any one of these before they go up! these will be queued up and scheduled!
again, this is an idea from many, many talented people i’ve seen and there is too many to tag!
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